Perspective
by narcissist.complex
Summary: Molly Hooper never expected to be the keeper of the world's greatest consulting detective. When Sherlock decides to kill himself and fool the rest of the world, she's the only one who can help him pull it off. Can she keep his secret? More importantly, will she come out of it the same as she was coming into it?
1. Chapter 1

**Note**: _This Chapter is going to be the shortest in the story because it is an introductory chapter. This is simply setting the stage for what is to come. I will try to update this story as frequently as my brain and hands will allow. If I could write all day I would, but I do not have the time for it always. _

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Chapter One : After the Fall

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Molly Hooper wasn't supposed to have a particularly interesting life. Not at all. The pathologist had gone to school so that she could get a stable and quiet job, away from people and away from drama. Sure she spent almost all her time with dead people, but that didn't matter. She kind of liked the company of the dead anyway. They didn't complain, or judge, and she couldn't kill them if she made a mistake. That wasn't to say that she made a lot of mistakes in her line of work. It just meant that there was very little pressure on her when she was working. Molly Hooper didn't like pressure, not one bit. Pressure made her tense and irritable, which were feelings that she didn't want.

Naturally, her nice and quiet lifestyle was thrown off when she started dating Jim from IT. Well, that wasn't entirely true. Her life was derailed the moment she she got introduced to Sherlock Holmes, the world's first and only consulting detective. He just happened to be Molly's first and only true love, not that he knew that exactly. Sherlock Holmes was a force in her life that she could not resist and led her into many sleepless nights. He just waltzed in one morning and started demanding that she give him body parts 'for the sake of science'. She had wanted to deny him his strange request but he had shown that he a remarkable talent for being able to completely deconstruct a person and what they were, inside and out.

So she didn't resist him after that, especially not after she started to fancy him. Oh, Molly was not an idiot. She knew how she must look to the rest of the world, let alone Sherlock Holmes. He began to use her feelings against her to get what he wanted, flirting and saying whatever he could to sway her into giving him the things he wanted. And it worked, every single time. Molly knew she should have learned to say no, but her brain always told her it was fine. They were dead bodies anyway, it's not like she was hurting anyone by giving him the parts he needed for his experiments.

Jim from IT, he was completely different from Sherlock. Jim had shown an interest in her before she even noticed his existence. He was quirky, but upbeat, sweet, and funny. In fact, Jim possessed every quality that she knew that Sherlock lacked and logically she knew that Jim was a better choice than the consulting detective would ever be.

That is of course, until Jim turned out to be a crazed murderer who tried to steal the crown jewels and murder hundreds of people. Molly could have died from the sheer absurdity of the whole thing. When Sherlock had accused him of being gay it drove her mad until she had confronted him and when she did, he did a pretty great job of playing the innocent perfect boyfriend. Just because he was different, didn't mean he was what everyone else thought he was.

He had done such a brilliant job of debunking the detectives analysis that she felt obligated to stay with him and their relationship had only grown after that. It grew so much that she could have sworn that she loved him, she could have, if he had really been what he said he was. Instead she felt sick to her stomach and wanted to hide from the world for several months.

She didn't though, she moved on with her life. Instead of pining over an ex-boyfriend turned crazed murderer, she focused on her work. Poured everything she had into it. After all, no one had actually bothered to ask her how she felt after the situation with Jim (no, she would not call him Moriarty) so she didn't bother expressing her feelings. After all, there was Sherlock. There was always Sherlock.

Though sometimes she wondered if Sherlock was worse for her than Jim was. At least with Jim she found what kind of man he really was. Sherlock, she would never know. He would give her biting criticisms at Christmas parties and apologize as though she should forgive him and then continue begging for more favors. He would hurt her and confuse her and never see the harm in it. It wasn't until his death that Molly decided she couldn't take it anymore, because suddenly, he was becoming her life. And she had to live with his ghost until he found it suitable to reveal himself to the world.

How did Molly go from a mild mannered pathologist to the keeper of a dead detective? How did she manage to lose her perspective on everything?


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two : Molly Interrupted

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It had not even been a week after Molly had helped Sherlock Holmes fake his death that the paparazzi began to hound her. She found herself having to hide within the confines of her apartment when she was not at work and it was starting to drive her a bit mad. Indeed, Molly was finding more comfort in her television shows and Ben & Jerry's than she was the outside world. John had contacted her when the ordeal had first occurred, he was in denial until the funeral. Poor John. Molly felt terrible having to lie to John and pretend that Sherlock really was dead. On the other hand, it was not a lie to tell him that Sherlock was gone. Even she, the woman who helped him fake his death, did not know if she would see him again and the thought was a bit unnerving.

It was not until the second week that Molly would get any peace. The media had milked the event for all that it was worth for the time being. Molly had been proud of Lestrade and his team (aside from the fact that Sally Donovan had gone out of her way to point out that she knew Sherlock Holmes was a freud the whole time) for the way they handled the evidence and the media. He released very little details other than the ones that were obvious. Molly supposed it was because he didn't quite believe what had happened himself. The inspector may not have been the most intelligent man in the land, but he did have faith in Sherlock Holmes, or rather, he had faith in Sherlock Holmes.

"I'm sure he didn't mean any of it," she had told the older man over the phone.

"Yeah, that doesn't make this any less stressful though." And to his credit, he was right. Molly just wanted things to go back to normal. She wanted to pretend she didn't have the world's biggest burden on her back.

Two months later Molly made it home to her flat after a particularly long day from the morgue and noticed that something was amiss when she entered the living room. She had a similar feeling to being robbed except for the fact that everything was still in its place.

The pathologist crept further into her apartment, this time reaching her kitchen before letting out a small scream. There was a man in her kitchen and he was currently poking through her fridge.

At her startled scream, the man in her fridge stood up and a familiar face greeted her with a look of disdain.

"Honestly, Molly, must you feel so inclined to yell at this hour?" Sherlock's bright blue eyes were narrowed at her.

Molly stuttered for a moment before should find her voice.

"What are you doing here, Sherlock? Everyone thinks that you're dead!" Honestly he told her that he was going to be gone for several months at the very least. He had gone as far to suggest that he may never return to London after faking his death. So what was he doing back so soon? Without so much as a ring over the phone?

"Thank you for pointing out the obvious," Sherlock replied as he closed the door to the refrigerator. Molly was pretty sure that he rolled his eyes at her then.

"You aren't supposed to be back so soon," Molly ignored his rude comments at the moment. "Did something happen?" She suddenly became quite worried for Sherlock. Surely something had not gone wrong already?

"No, I simply could not put up with Mycroft for one moment longer," the admission came quietly from Sherlock's lips.

"Couldn't put up with Mycroft? What's that supposed to mean Sherlock?"

The tall man rolled his eyes. "Can we not talk about it? Honestly, it does not matter much now. He already put me out, Molly," his voice was deadly serious but Molly was trying to process what he was saying.

She crossed her arms and tilted her head so that she could get a better look at Sherlock. The pathologist may not have known that much about his older brother, but she knew Sherlock and he was hardly ever so dismissive without explaining himself.

Was his brother perhaps some untouchable subject? Or was Sherlock just cross at this hour?

"So why are you at my flat Sherlock? I wouldn't say that's a brilliant idea considering the fact I'm already the reason why you're dead," Molly told him seriously. Sherlock just let out a sigh and shook his head, curls gently shaking as he did so, something that for some reason, Molly's tired brain still felt the need to notice at this hour.

"I understand that Miss Hooper, I was hoping that you could service me a little longer and allow me to reside in your flat until I am ready to formulate the rest of my plan." Sherlock's voice was as condescending as always, almost as if he was trying to get a child to understand a complex math problem. It wasn't Molly's fault that she was caught off guard. She had just sort of assumed that Sherlock knew what he was doing when he came to her with that god awful plan of his.

After a moment's consideration and realizing that she could not really say no to the man, Molly shook her head and turned on her heels. "Fine, Sherlock. I hope that the couch is comfortable for tonight. I'm too tired to argue with you." And with that, Molly Hooper went to bed.


End file.
